The Unfortunate Death of... Franklin Dell owned a knife shop. He boasted to all of his customers that he was training to become a knife thrower, and he boasted to all of his friends that he lived on the edge of everything: life, safety, sanity . . . . When he was at his knife shop, he always tossed or juggled knives to pass the time, sometimes scaring people with his seeming carelessness. When he drove home at night, he always drove as fast as he could until his scanner told him a cop was nearby, but then he would still go five over. When he went to the movies, he always snuck in his own food, and if he thought he could get away with it, he would also sneak in bottles of beer. When he listened to his music (usually death metal), he played it loud enough to feel his eardrums tingle. Everything Franklin Dell did, in fact, he did on the edge, and he never ended up with scars to show for it.